A Warm Blanket
Underneath we’re all the same, perfectly imperfect, doing what we can, making our way through life, searching for a warm blanket and a tender hand to hold.
Underneath we’re all the same, perfectly imperfect, doing what we can, making our way through life, searching for a warm blanket and a tender hand to hold.
What if we actually lived, instead of pretending to live until realizing as we die that we’ve been so afraid of change that we haven’t really lived at all?
I want you to remember that you matter, that there is no honor in working yourself to death or sacrificing this life you’ve been granted for any dream.
A chapter from my book on how I learned to understand “the paint can” – the many inputs that go into forming what we believe to be real about ourselves, love and life.
A friend of mine who lifts weights recently asked me to teach him to meditate. So I asked him to explain to me the steps of one rep of a bench press.
Perhaps woven tightly with fear and insecurity is an opportunity to experience the only true security, that of self-love — and of being there for ourselves.